Sarah Jefferis

WALKING TO CHURCH

A Broken seesaw behind a gas station laundromat looks like a babysitter.

The Burgundy pinto on cinder blocks is a home for

fruit flies. They sing over chef Boyardee in black bags on the curb.

My blind heavy mama begging Jesus for quarters.

 

Down the way past the oxen knocking on gates,

the snap of paddocks

and those in costume and wigs pretend to be British.

The stink of horseshit on the pebble road;

The fife and drum marching through piles.

 

All before your slobbery kiss in the closet behind an altar

just before you straightened your collar, shook the incense

the organ moaning your appearance

The sacristy is a kind of coffin for

All creatures great and small

No biography available